


Sevmione Prompted Drabbles

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Prompted Harry Potter Works [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, HP: EWE, Post Hogwarts AU, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-16 21:26:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: Prompted Sevmione drabbles from my blog.





	1. "I am not here to teach you what to think. I am here to teach you how to think."

**Author's Note:**

> Rating is the highest of all the drabbles, but the drabbles vary in rating and content.
> 
> Chapter title is the prompt line for the drabble, and any additional detail is in the chapter notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Anon, specifying _Naturally, said in a tone of voice that indicates that this is a particularly grievous task. ___

“I am not here to teach you want to think. I am here to teach you how to think.”

Harry and Ron looked, predictably, irritated and offended. Hermione ignored them, and focused only more intently on Snape. He may sound like he was performing a disgusting task fit only for the lowliest dregs of society, but he was still doing it. And with the war dragging on for several years now, they needed to re-think how they were fighting.

He was the only one left alive who had spent any real time with Voldemort, after all.

After sneering at Ron and Harry, he looked at her, and his expression changed. It was barely noticeable, but she could tell. She felt heat flood her face, and hoped it didn’t show. Her eagerness could be so easily read another way. And it wouldn’t be an incorrect interpretation.

“Well then,” he said, in a new tone that made her shiver, and Ron and Harry swivel their heads to look between them in alarm, “at least one of you appears to be worth my time.”

That really shouldn’t have made her perk up so obviously, but it did.


	2. "Please don't touch me there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Anon.

“Please don’t touch me there.”

Hermione froze, less because of his words, and more because of the way he said them. Low, soft. He said ‘please’. That word from his lips always had an odd effect on her. He knew it, it was why he used it sparingly. Manipulative snake.

Biting her lip, she looked at the rune that was glowing on the back of his neck, visible above the collar of his robes as he bent forward over his cauldron. It only glowed when she was near, and she could feel the matching mark on her own neck warm up.

Ten years since she’d linked their lives and saved him, and he hadn’t aged, he hadn’t changed. He still sometimes looked at death’s door, held in a strange living stasis. Ten years, and she still wanted to touch it, always. Like she was drawn to it.

“Don’t you want to touch mine?” she asked. 

It wasn’t the first time she had. He never answered. They danced around each other, working together, living in the castle together. She couldn’t go too far from him, and freelance research was interesting enough. Getting to know him better was even more interesting. After they got past all the fighting. She wondered if he’d ignore her outright this time, or tell her to leave.

“Our souls are bound together, sustaining me when I should be dead,” he said softly, not turning to look at her, but remaining stooped over his cauldron. “I feel your life in my veins, your breath in my lungs. You did the research, and yet you still ask as if you do not know the answer, after all this time. You are more intelligent than this.”

Of course he wanted to touch, just as she did. She did know. But she wished he would just admit it. It would finally break that last barrier between them. “Then why won’t you let me—”

“The moment you touch the rune that binds us, the connection will flow both ways, and you will lose all sense of yourself as an individual. Nothing will change for me, but that yearning will cease. We will be as one. Regardless of my desires, you cannot want that.”

Hermione felt her face set, her jaw clench. Infuriating man. Ten years they’d been edging around one another, spending so much time together. He should know better.

“No one tells me what I want!” she snapped, raising her hand again.

He looked over his shoulder and met her eyes, but made no move to stop her as she reached out, and placed her hand over the mark.

Finally, she felt as he felt. Shared life, shared breath. Living as one. And at last, after ten years, the yearning ache at the back of her neck faded to a pleasant warmth, as the ritual was finally complete.

Colour returned to his cheeks, as he was released from that strange living stasis maintained by her life, and found true life of his own, shared with hers, rather than just bound to hers.

And she could feel how it made him feel, a warmth stirring in her chest that was not her own, but matched her own. At last.


End file.
